Highwayman
by freakanature06
Summary: Alfred is a man against the law of Arthur Kirkland. He's in love with a maiden named Madeleine and he's in a story being told by Gilbert Beilschmidt to his children. Based on "Highwayman" by Loreena McKennit. PruCan, NAcest. Rating for later parts.


_A/N: I have been INSPIRED FOREVER to write something revolving around the song "Higwayman". I just... have finally gotten around to it. This was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but holy crap, it started getting long before I was even halfway done with it, so... I've decided to just split it into parts. Anyway, here's the first part! More to come!_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Axis Powers Hetalia or the song/poem Highwayman. I'm very sorry if you thought I did. XD**

Part 1

_The wind was a torrent of darkness  
__Among the gusty trees.  
__The moon was a ghostly galleon  
__Tossed upon the cloudy seas.  
__The road was a ribbon of moonlight  
__Over the purple moor  
__When the highwayman came riding,  
__Riding, riding,  
__The highwayman came riding  
__Up to the old inn door._

Alfred F. Jones, crusader of good (or so he proclaimed) and top-most hindrance to British soldiers (and, in particular, one Arthur Kirkland), found himself on the road more often than not. Of course, that was all part of the job description, really. He continuously picked on the British and, in return, they tried to kill him with all their might. You give a little, you take a little. That's the way of life.

Then again, Alfred F. Jones was a huge idiot, so it's probably not best to live by his principles. Keep that in mind.

So on this night, he found himself on the road, like he usually did. But tonight was special. There was a large shipment of gold being passed between British camps, and Alfred was determined to intercept at least some of it to fuel a resistance movement he had been a part of for some time. But that wasn't the reason tonight was special.

Tonight was special because, after he had intercepted that shipment, Alfred would be able to visit his true love. And he was riding now to inform his true love that he would be coming for her in the morning.

The sweet girl was the daughter of a French landlord and went by the name of Madeleine. She was a special girl, and Alfred was one of only a few people who knew how truly special she was.

Galloping into the inn-yard, Alfred rode straight up to Madeleine's window and tapped on the shutters. Moments later, he called out in a loud whisper. "Madeleine… MADELEINE! Open the window! It's me, Alfred!"

If he hadn't been listening for a response, Alfred likely wouldn't have heard the annoyed sigh that came from behind the shutters. "You're supposed to _whistle_, idiot," came the low response. For a moment, Alfred was completely befuddled. But then he suddenly remembered that he and the landlord's daughter had come to the agreement that he would whistle a specific tune in order to let her know that the coast was clear. After all, Mr. Bonnefoy didn't really like Alfred all that much…

After a few moments of hesitation in which the dolt tried to remember the tune, he whistled quietly and almost immediately the shutters flew open and a bright, smiling face appeared in the window, framed by golden locks, violet eyes shining lovingly from behind a pair of thin-rimmed glasses. Just the sight of her brightened up the dark night and she seemed to positively glow at the sight of her love, despite his complete stupidity.

"Alfred!" she exclaimed, breathlessly. "Why am I a girl?"

Gilbert Beilschmidt looked up from where he was seated on a small bed with two young children sitting on either side of him. His husband, Matthew Williams, had walked into the room without the three noticing and seemed to have caught enough of the bedtime story that Gilbert was telling their two children to be able to pick out that Gilbert was putting people the children knew into the main roles of the story - and had obviously cast Matthew in the role of the landlord's daughter.

"Mattie!" Gilbert replied, perhaps a little too brightly. Earlier that week, he had been banned from telling the children bedtime stories, since his stories had a tendency to be … well, violent. "I didn't see you there!" Obviously. "I was just… putting Fritz and Winnie to bed, that's all."

The Canadian crossed his arms and tapped his foot, giving Gilbert "the look" over the top edge of his glasses. "The look" was something Gilbert got every time he'd done something particularly wrong. And oftentimes, he would instantaneously apologize (and then proceed to kick the ass of anyone who even thought the word "whipped" afterward), but at other times, Gilbert really did know that he wasn't in the wrong.

Frowning a little himself, the Prussian wrapped an arm around each of his children and tugged them close to himself. "I'm allowed to tell them a story if I want to! They said my stories were more awesome anyway!" He snickered, but was quickly hushed by an elbow in his side from the little boy next to him.

"Did not!" the six-year-old piped up. His hair was light blond, short, and a complete mess and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses perched on his tiny nose. "Winnie just said that Papa's stories were boring." One tiny cheek puffed out as the little boy looked away. "You're not awesome, Vati," he concluded with a huff.

About to argue with his son, Gilbert almost didn't hear the very soft voice piping up from his other side. But then, he never missed a word the little girl said. "I think you're awesome, Vati." Winnifred was four years old, had golden hair and pink eyes behind another pair of glasses.

Gilbert smirked and ruffled his daughters hair softly. "_Danke, spatzi_," he replied affectionately before looking up at his husband once more. "See? They want me to tell the story!"

Having been standing in the doorway looking displeased through the entire conversation, Matthew frowned a little when Gilbert finally spoke to him again. "But Gilbert, you always…"

"I promise! This story is different and has a moral and everything!" Gilbert was a professional at interrupting Matthew, for which Matthew was _not_ very grateful. "Please, just let me tell it? I've been working on it for weeks! It's really awesome!"

If there was one thing Matthew hated and loved more than anything about his husband, it was the way Gilbert could manipulate him without even really thinking hard. Letting out a sigh, the Canadian stepped into the room and moved to sit on the bed with his family, picking Frederick up and placing the squealing boy onto his lap as he sat. "Fine. But I demand to be a boy…"

Grinning his infamous, wide grin, Gilbert leaned over to give Matthew a peck on the cheek before settling himself back in his seat. "Don't worry, birdie! I've got it covered!"

"Alfred!" she exclaimed, breathlessly. Her hair billowed slightly in the wind as Alfred looked up at her, grinning like the moron that he was.

"Hey Mattie! I missed you!" Alfred stood upright in his stirrups in an attempt to reach the lady waiting at the window above him, but he couldn't quite reach. Pouting a little, he flopped back onto his saddle.

Rolling her eyes, the girl leaned out the window, staring down at her love like he was an imbecile. "I've told you, Al. You can't call me that. I'm supposed to be a girl, remember?"

Alfred's eyes widened and he looked up again. "Oh yeah! Sorry Mattie… I mean, Madeleine!" He amended himself hurriedly as he saw the look on the young "girl"s face. "I keep forgetting your dad's crazy."

"He's not crazy!" While "her" voice was soft, it held a lot of menace that had our unlikely hero wincing. "He's protecting me! He just doesn't want me to have to fight, that's all. It's stupid to constantly fight."

For a moment, everything was silent. But then Alfred broke the silence deftly. "You make a cute girl anyway, Mattie!"

A shoe came flying straight at Alfred's face and he didn't notice until the object had hit his face and fallen to the ground limply. Blinking, the man looked up at his love who was scowling down at him. "…Madeleine?" Alfred corrected himself, very belatedly.

Still looking a little perturbed, the "maiden" seemed to forgive the idiot before "her" and glanced behind her. "Why are you here, Alfred? Papa will be in to say goodnight soon, and if he sees you here…" The threat was well-known and Alfred didn't need to be told what would happen to him if he were to be found within reach of the man's "daughter".

"Right! I was…" Alfred paused, trying to figure out what he'd been saying. "I was coming to tell you that I have to do something tonight. But I'll be back for you tomorrow!" Face brightening, our would-be hero looked up at his love. "By the time the moon rises, at the latest. I promise."

Madeleine leaned out of "her" window, peering down at Alfred curiously. "What do you mean you'll be back for me?" There was a certain degree of hope in "her" voice.

"I mean, for good. To take you as my wife, of course!"

The squeal of delight that answered this admission was enough to make any young man happy. "So… I guess I'll see you, Mattie," Alfred said quietly, looking up at his love with bright eyes. For a moment, their eyes locked and a silent exchange passed between them. Then, without another word, Alfred pulled at his reins and galloped away, into the West.

***

"Vati, this is boring," Fritz complained as he shifted impatiently in his seat on Matthew's lap as Matthew tried desperately to get his son to sit still. "Tell one of your _other_ stories."

Gilbert frowned and looked at the boy. "C'mon, it's just starting to get to the good part. Don't you want to hear about how they all die?"

These words seemed to spark the young boy's interest and he sat up straighter suddenly. "Really? They all die?"

"You don't die, do you, Vati?" piped up the small voice from just next to Gilbert. He grinned at the little girl and poked her nose.

"You'll just have to listen and find out, won't you?"


End file.
